


A Conquer'd Woe

by voleuse



Category: Angel: the Series, Firefly
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-26
Updated: 2006-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-04 07:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Conquer'd Woe

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-NFA, no _Firefly_ spoilers. Title and summary adapted from Shakespeare's Sonnet 90.

Humanity is a relative state of being, Eve has found. And having previously been an immortal being, she's never really been in the proper mindset to die.

*

 

The world ends, and she closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, she's in the white room.

In the center of the room is a table, with two seats on either side. In one, Chnum sits, reaching forward to move his king forward. In the opposite is Fenrir, and he's flipping a bishop between his fingers.

The Senior Partners look older than she remembers, bent and dry. Then she realizes who's missing, just as a strong hand touches her shoulder, and when she looks over her shoulder, Lasca grins.

Eve doesn't return the smile, doesn't feel anywhere near equal to it. "Ma'am," she says.

Lasca's fingers tighten on Eve's shoulder. "This world is done." At the table, Chnum scowls, and Fenrir barks harshly, laughing. "Would you die with it?"

"Can I?" Eve asks, and she can't quite keep the petulance out of her voice. "I didn't think I could."

Lasca releases her, and Eve turns, bows her head. "You live," Lasca says, "because we allowed you your time." She reaches out, and her fingertip is a claw under Eve's chin. "But we have use for you again."

The part of Eve that is human quails, but over the centuries, it's long grown weak.

Eve takes a deep breath, and realizes she doesn't need it. She clenches her fists, and nods.

*

 

She'd forgotten how she missed this, the easy traverse between dimensions. The respect in some people's eyes, and the fear in others. For so long, she'd been deprived of both.

She takes her rest in Pylea, claiming quarters in the name of the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. She looks down at the ruins of the countryside, and thrills at the results of abject capitulation.

And sometimes, she wakes up, and she's standing in the white room again. Sometimes all three of the Senior Partners will be there, sometimes only one.

In whatever circumstance, she straightens her pajamas and takes her orders without question. What else, after all, is there?

*

 

One day, she's pulled to the white room between blinks, between breaths. For a second, she's disconcerted, because she'd wanted to finish her salad.

But Chnum is waiting, so she swallows the last of her arugala and smiles.

He's alone, and he stares for her a minute, face impassive. She's never been able to read Chnum, even though he seems the most human of the three. There are wrinkles around his eyes, and the set of his shoulders indicates weariness.

His eyes, however, are young as they've ever been, and as she waits, the rectangular pupils contract. He clears his throat. "I liked that world," he remarks, almost casually.

"Yes, sir."

He turns and paces away, then back, his footsteps clopping sharply against the floor. "There are still humans in that universe, and they are still useful to us."

Eve nods, and waits.

Finally, he halts before her again, and gestures with his hand, pulling a figure of a woman, inches tall, into the air. The image is kinetic, compelling. Eve leans closer, focusing on the fine features of the woman's face, the kink and curl of her hair.

"A new contact?" she asks.

Chnum shrugs. "A means to an end."

Eve glances at the image again. "Tell me more."

*

Eve meets Saffron in Londinium, over drinks and three unconscious Alliance troops.

She raises her glass of wine, smirks with calculated carelessness. "This isn't a place I'd dare to fight. Not with Alliance, anyway."

Saffron spits at the bodies, sneers at the pub's patrons. "They can't do anything if they can't catch me."

"True." Eve leans against the bar, licks her lips. "How about a little insurance?"

*

They con their way onto a luxury cruiser, and Eve admires the way Saffron primps and pouts and postures past every obstacle. It's been a while since she's had to work for what she needs, and feminine wiles weren't part of Wolfram and Hart's training program.

When they've finally stowed themselves in a spare crewman's quarters, Saffron kicks off her crimson sandals, scuffed and improbably sexy. She strips off her jacket, her skirt, her blouse. Eve watches the performance with raised eyebrows, and finally Saffron rolls her eyes.

"It's a long flight to Persephone," she says. "Don't tell me you wanted to work?"

*

 

The steward enters their quarters later that evening, and finds them intertwined in one of the bunks. He makes a startled noise and staggers against the door.

Eve touches her lips to Saffron's throat, adds a bit of tongue for emphasis. She rolls her hips against Saffron's hand, and then they both turn to stare at the steward.

"Close the door if you're going to watch," Saffron snaps. "It's cold."

Eve stifles a giggle, and then a moan, and the steward carefully shuts the door.

*

 

When they touch down on Persephone, Saffron steals a bottle of champagne and half of the steward's purse. She tucks it into her pack and slinks an arm around Eve's waist, and they slip into the city proper together.

"Are we going to drink that?" Eve asks, and winks at watching passersby.

"We're going to sell it," Saffron explains. "I know someone who can fence this _lan dan jiang_ for good coin."

Eve watches a transport ship streak down for docking, and asks Saffron if it can wait thirty-five minutes.

*

 

After a quick drink and a quick fuck, Saffron leads her to Badger's place, where he's already engaged in a transaction.

Regardless, they sway past the guards and into the inner sanctum. The participants within stare, and one of them curses.

Badger stands and sketches a bow. "Mariela, my dear. I'm busy at the moment."

Saffron ignores him, looks past to the cursing man at the table. "Eve, I should introduce you to my husband, Mal."

But Eve's beyond that now, because there's a slim girl behind Mal, and she's standing up.

Eve holds a hand up, and the room falls silent. "River," she says. "It's good to finally meet you."

"Likewise," River says, and smiles.


End file.
